


Nick of Time

by Pony Girl (Jackjunkie)



Category: Big Valley
Genre: Gen, Humor, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-18
Updated: 2012-11-18
Packaged: 2017-11-19 00:03:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/566806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jackjunkie/pseuds/Pony%20Girl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nick Barkley has a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nick of Time

**Author's Note:**

> Originally published in the zine Ghost Riders 15

A dark blue eye peered blearily out from beneath a battered white pillow. It blinked two or three times before finally focusing upon the clock sitting quietly on the bedside table.

“Ya-a-a-a!” came a tortured howl from amidst the tangled sheets. Throwing the pillow off his head, Nick Barkley leaped out of bed and dashed toward the washstand. Jarrod would have his hide if he was late for that appointment.

Why did he have to pick this morning of all mornings to oversleep? It wasn’t like there was any particular reason for it. Okay, so he had stayed late in town last night for that little celebration with the boys at the saloon, but that was no excuse—at least not one his brother was likely to treat with any degree of patience.

Shoving his lanky dark hair out of his eyes, Nick splashed cold water over his face. He reached for the soap, but the slippery cake shot out of his hand and to the floor. He bent to retrieve it, his hands passing over the smooth floorboards all around him in his search. “Aha!” They closed over the elusive object at last.

Clutching his prize, Nick stood up triumphantly—and a bit too quickly. “Ouch!” he exclaimed as he bumped his head on the bottom of the washstand. Rubbing the sore spot in an aggrieved manner, he returned to his washing.

He hurried through that and quickly lathered up for shaving. Recklessly he tried to speed up the customary pace at which he scraped a razor across his face, but soon had cause to regret his haste. Swearing under his breath at the stinging, he dabbed at the spot of blood on his cheek.

Abandoning the washstand, he began to dress, roughly yanking on pants and shirt. Somehow he was not surprised when a button popped off the shirt and flew through the air. He tore the shirt off and threw it after the button. Stalking across the room, he rummaged in the wardrobe for another shirt.

Dressed at last, in a chocolate brown shirt with a light blue bandanna knotted at his throat, Nick returned to the mirror. Eying his hairbrush like it was a dangerous weapon, he began to pull it carefully through his tousled locks. It only took him about twice as long as usual to get through the task without incident. Feeling more assured, he picked up his comb. On the first casual sweep, it broke in half. Nick regarded the pieces with a sigh. He might as well make up his mind to it right now. It was just going to be one of those mornings.

*****

When he had finally managed to make himself presentable, Nick ran downstairs to breakfast. Entering the dining room, however, he noticed the table was empty and his family absent.

“Mother?!” he called in his usual stentorian tones. “Mother!”

“Good morning, Nick,” said a pleasant, well-modulated voice from behind him.

Nick turned around to observe his mother walking into the room. She was elegantly dressed in dove gray, her white hair impeccably coiffed. She invariably looked cool and collected. Nick was willing to bet that Victoria Barkley never had to cope with the sort of mishaps he’d just endured. Her clothes probably wouldn’t dare even wrinkle, never mind pop a button.

“Where is everybody?” Nick asked her.

“Breakfast is finished.” Victoria opened her hands in a gesture at the empty table. “We didn’t know if you’d be joining us this morning. Silas and I just finished clearing everything away. We can heat something up for you if you’d like.”

“Never mind, I’ll just have coffee,” he said, reaching for the pot that still sat on the sideboard. He poured a cup and sipped it, making a face. It was lukewarm.

Sounds of a commotion through the open windows suddenly distracted him from the coffee. “What’s that?”

“I can’t imagine,” Victoria replied.

Putting down his cup without regret, Nick ran out of the house to investigate, his mother close at his heels. The sounds seemed to be emanating from the back near the barnyard. As they rounded the corner, an extraordinary sight met their eyes.

A sea of heaving, flapping, squawking white feathers surged round the ankles of Audra, Eugene, and Silas. Upon closer inspection, Nick could see that they were standing in the vegetable garden surrounded by a flock of white ducks. The ducks were quacking and the people were yelling.

Never one to sit on the sidelines, Nick waded into the garden through the ducks. “What’s going on here?” he roared, having not the slightest trouble making himself heard above the din. In response, three voices wailed at once.

“My ladybugs!”

“My ducks!”

“My vegetables!”

“Ladybugs?” Nick latched onto the word that seemed to make the least sense of all.

“She’s ruined my experiment!” Eugene pointed an accusing finger at their sister. “All my work, all for nothing, just because of these stupid ducks! When’d you start keeping ducks anyway?”

“If you came home more often, you’d know,” countered Audra. “And why shouldn’t I keep ducks? I can keep ducks if I want to!”

“Not if they eat my ladybugs!” Eugene moaned.

“It’s your own fault.” Audra tossed her head.

“But they’re eating my lettuce, too!” added Silas.

Nick kicked futilely at a duck who kept nipping at his boot.

“Here,” his sister said in disgust, shoving the bird she held into his arms as she bent to pluck away the one at his feet.

Struggling to hold onto the armful of flailing white feathers, Nick demanded, “Eugene, what are you talking about?”

“You know, the experiment I was telling everyone about at breakfast. Oh, that’s right, you weren’t there.”

Nick was beginning to see that his morning’s travails weren’t yet over. “Eugene, just tell me what happened,” he instructed in a resigned tone.

“Nick, I brought a supply of ladybugs home from school to release into the peach orchard. In my studies on pest control, we’ve been looking for something to use against that cottony cushion scale that’s destroying so much of the fruit crop all over California. Well, it turns out that ladybugs eat scale insects, so they could be the answer to getting rid of them. My professor had reports on their effectiveness on some of the farms that have been having problems, so I knew they could help us here.”

“Yes, that’s all well and good, but you should have kept them in the peaches and not brought them back here,” Audra interrupted.

“I wanted to experiment on other crops. This garden provided ideal conditions for a controlled study until it was overrun by those…those waddling locusts!”

“Now, Mr. Eugene, there’s no call for any name calling.”

“Thank you, Silas. Besides,” Audra loftily informed her brother, “that sounds pretty silly coming from someone who’s spending so much time with bugs.”

“Miss Audra, he was only trying to help.”

“Silas, whose side are you on?!” Audra fumed.

“I’m sure he has the good sense to be on the side of science!” Eugene exclaimed. “Your ducks have destroyed my project! What are they doing in the garden anyway?”

“They followed your precious bugs, what do you think? I never had trouble keeping them out before. It’s all your fault!” Audra insisted.

“Problem is, now they’ve had a taste of my lettuce, they’re going to want to keep on coming back,” Silas worried.

Over all the ruckus of shouting and quacking, Nick suddenly made out another sound—the sound of laughter. Looking over his shoulder, he saw that his brother Heath had appeared and was standing next to Victoria. Actually, Heath was having some trouble standing. Instead, he was doubled over, holding his stomach as gales of laughter took his breath away.

Nick scowled. “I don’t have time for this!” he exclaimed, thrusting the duck he was holding at Audra and not waiting to see what she did with it. He stomped over to his brother. “Since you think it’s so funny,” he began, but Heath broke in before he could finish.

“Boy howdy, Nick, I didn’t know you’d taken up duck ranching.” Heath gave his older brother a friendly slap on the back and kept on chuckling.

“Duck ranching,” Nick repeated.

“Yeah, looks like you got ‘em rounded up okay, but branding them critters is pretty tricky—you know you gotta pluck ‘em first.” Heath laughed some more at his own wit.

“Uh huh. Pluck ‘em.” Nick folded his arms and waited.

“Then there’s the trail drives. They’re real tough, unless you hire hands that can fly. Hoo, hoo, hee.” Heath was again convulsed with mirth.

Nick just stood there and watched him. From his left, he heard a choking gasp and looked over to see their mother breaking out into merriment as well. “Nick,” she said between laughs, “you can’t say it’s not funny.”

Nick smiled, a slow, considering smile. “Oh no,” he said sweetly, “I’m not saying that at all. It’s funny all right. In fact, I have something even funnier to add.” He addressed Heath. “As I was saying, since you think it’s so funny, you can take charge of clearing up this mess. I have to get into town.” He turned towards the barn. “This better be settled by the time I get back.” He strode off to saddle his horse.

“You better watch out for duck rustlers!” he heard an unrepentant Heath call after him as he went.

It didn’t take Nick long to get his horse ready. As he led the animal outside and swung himself up into the saddle, his brother Jarrod happened by.

“Are you still here?” Jarrod inquired mildly. “We need to settle that mine deal, Nick.”

“I’m going, I’m going,” Nick answered him in a cranky tone. His family was getting on his nerves this morning. As he rode off, he assured himself that after a beginning like that, the day just had to get better.

*****

Nick rode into Stockton and went straight to the hotel. Catching the desk clerk’s attention, he asked for Maximilian Nash, only to be told that Mr. Nash had checked out an hour ago.

“Damn!” Nick muttered. He’d known he was late for the appointment, but hadn’t realized Nash was leaving town so soon. An hour wasn’t that much of a dead start, though. Maybe he could still catch up to him.

“Did Mr. Nash say where he was headed?”

“I believe he mentioned Sacramento was his destination.”

“Thanks.” Tossing a coin on the desk, Nick walked out of the hotel and set his horse on the road to Sacramento.

*****

“Oh, no!” Jarrod came out of his study holding a sheaf of papers, a worried look on his face.

“What’s wrong, Jarrod?” Victoria asked.

“In reexamining the geologist’s report on that mine we planned to buy, I just found an error. Someone misplaced a decimal point.”

“How serious is the error?” Victoria knew Jarrod would not be so concerned unless it involved a substantial impact.

She was right. “This completely changes the percentage of return we expected,” Jarrod explained. “That mine won’t produce enough to pay for the cost of mining it. We’ll be operating at a loss, instead of at a profit.”

“Nick hasn’t been gone long,” Victoria pointed out. “Maybe there’s still time to stop him.”

“You’re right, Mother. I’ll leave for Stockton immediately.”

*****

Nick galloped steadily along the road. Rounding a bend, he pulled up when he saw a wagon blocking the way. It was tilted at an awkward angle, two wheels in a ditch at the side of the road. A man was down in the ditch scratching his head, while a woman stood by the horse’s head, keeping the animal calm. Three children ran back and forth between the two adults.

Nick’s impulse was to ride around the obstruction. He just didn’t have time to stop and be a Good Samaritan right now. The situation didn’t look that bad and someone else would likely be along soon. Clucking to his horse, he walked it up to the accident site.

Seeing him approach, the family ran up and clustered around his horse, preventing him from simply going around. Nick sat and looked at the circle of expectant faces.

“Having problems, I see,” he observed.

“That’s right. Sure could use a bit of help, mister,” said the man, a stringbean of a fellow obviously without the muscle to maneuver the wagon out of the ditch by himself.

“Ordinarily, I’d be happy to help,” Nick began, “but I’m in a rush to catch up with someone…” He trailed off at their looks of disappointment. “I have very important business…” he tried again.

“Shouldn’t take but a moment, between the two of us,” the man hopefully pleaded. The woman wrung her hands and just looked at him silently.

It would be too hard-hearted to turn them down. Besides, the man was right; it shouldn’t take long. Nick gave it up and got down to help the couple, who introduced themselves as the Plodkins.

Nick joined Mr. Plodkin in the ditch and pressed his shoulder against the vehicle. While the two men pushed, the horse pulled, under Mrs. Plodkin’s guidance. With the extra help provided by Nick, the wagon was soon out of the ditch. Just as it rolled away from him, Nick heard a ripping sound and looked down at his sleeve. The cloth had snagged on the rough wood and torn away from the seam.

“Oh, your beautiful shirt!” the woman exclaimed in dismay, upon running around to congratulate the men. “You must let me mend it.”

“No, thank you, it’s okay,” Nick said, gritting his teeth and forcing a smile. “I have to be on my way.”

“Please, it’s no trouble,” she persuaded. “It’s on account of you helping us that it got damaged.”

“I’m obliged, but I can’t spare the time,” Nick repeated, walking away with a polite tip of his hat.

He found his way impeded by the three little Plodkins. The two small boys were admiringly patting the chocolate-colored horse with the white mane and tail. The littlest child, a girl, was hanging onto the stirrup with her right hand. She removed the first two fingers of her left hand from her mouth long enough to say, “Ride?” then inserted them back in and gazed longingly up at Nick.

He smiled at the child, but shook his head. “I’d like to give you a ride, honey, but I don’t have time right now. Maybe some other day.”

The little girl gripped the stirrup even tighter and took her fingers out of her mouth again. “Ride,” she repeated, a little more insistently.

Nick Barkley’s eyes, the deep indigo of a midnight storm, resolutely gazed into eyes the pale azure of a sunny summer sky. They were small, but there was a determined look in them that struck a kindred chord in Nick. Or maybe he just knew when to stop arguing with a female, no matter how young.

“All right. Let’s go for a ride,” he acquiesced.

He lifted the girl to Cocoa’s back and led her, squealing with glee, down the road a piece. When he got back, he found himself looking into two more pairs of appealing young eyes. “Why not?” Nick shrugged, knowing when he was licked, and gave each of the boys a ride as well.

By the time he was at last able to bid good-bye to the friendly Plodkin family and continue on his way, he figured Nash could have doubled his head start. Jarrod was not going to like it at all if Nick lost them that mine. He spurred his horse to a gallop in an effort to narrow the gap.

*****

He’d been riding for a good stretch when he spotted a pond not far from the road. Deciding it was a good time to water his horse, Nick angled Cocoa in that direction. He could use a drink himself.

It was peaceful by the water. Nick drank his fill and stood waiting for his horse to quench its thirst. A cool, refreshing breeze was blowing. It was quiet except for the tranquil sounds of nature—the water lapping, a few insects humming, birds chirping, frogs croaking.

“The frog, the frog! It’s gettin’ away!”

Nick spun around at the sound of the shout. A small blur burst from the bushes farther down the waterbank at the same moment something jumped up at Nick with a loud, harsh noise. Nick instinctively leaped back in response, slipped on the pond’s bank, and fell flat on his back in the wet mud. A large green bullfrog hopped lazily onto his shirt and croaked at him.

“My frog!” A boy of about eight or nine swooped down on Nick and grabbed the frog away. “I saw him first,” he informed the man, hugging the creature to his chest in a proprietary manner.

Nick sat up slowly, wiping mud from the back of his hair and watching it drip off his arms. “You can have it. What do you want it for anyway?”

“For the frog jumping contest, o’ course,” the boy replied, shaking his head at the ignorant question. He skipped away proudly carrying his prize.

Nick pulled off his boots, got stiffly to his feet, and waded into the water to rinse away the worst of the mud. With his soggy clothes clinging uncomfortably, he climbed wearily back into the saddle and turned his horse once more toward the road.

*****

The road meandered through some low hills. Nick felt a cooling breeze blowing through a grove of trees. At least he was dry now, though he hadn’t stayed clean for very long. The dust stirred up by pounding hooves had settled on his wet clothes and body, rendering him almost as grimy as if he’d never washed that mud off at all. He tried not to think about how far behind Nash he’d fallen.

Suddenly a net flew through the air and settled directly over Nick. He pulled hard on the reins, struggling for control as he twisted this way and that in his ropy prison. Cocoa snorted and pirouetted nervously at the startling circumstances, but gradually calmed down at Nick’s familiar voice and touch. Nick was attempting to disentangle himself when he heard whooping and hollering, and then saw two boys about ten or eleven years old run up to the road.

The boys’ cheers died away upon seeing Nick. They somberly looked him up and down.

“Aw, you’re not a chimpanzee,” said one.

“Naw, you’re just a person,” said the other.

“Thank you for noticing,” Nick testily replied. “Now that we’ve established that, do you think you can help me down from here and out of this thing?” He pushed ineffectually at the web that covered him.

The boys helped him slide down from horseback and removed the net that had him trapped.

“Now do you mind telling me what kind of game you think you’re playing?” Nick demanded once he was free.

“It’s not a game. Like we said, we’re after the chimpanzee,” one of the boys explained.

“Chimpanzee?! What chimpanzee?” Nick was totally bewildered. Since when did chimpanzees inhabit California? They were African creatures, if he wasn’t mistaken.

“The one that escaped.”

That didn’t enlighten him much. Nick waited, but there was no more forthcoming. “I’m just passing through these parts, so you’ll have to excuse me if I haven’t heard the news.” He looked from one solemn freckled face to the other. “Help me out here, boys. Can you tell me a little more about it? Escaped from where?”

“From the menagerie.”

Things were beginning to make a little more sense now.

“There’s a reward.”

“Five whole dollars.”

“Only you hafta catch it alive.”

“So ya can’t shoot it.”

“That’s why we brung the net.”

“We tracked it into the trees.”

“Tommy thought he saw it.”

“So when we saw you moving by, we thought you was it.”

“But you wasn’t.”

“We sure would like that five dollars.”

Once they’d finally gotten started telling their story, it seemed impossible to stem the tide. Nick remounted his horse and prepared to depart. He wondered just how much of this yarn was real. “And just what is this chimpanzee supposed to look like?”

“Oh, short and brown and hairy… kinda like that.”

“Like what?”

“Like that.” The boy pointed, but before Nick could turn around, something dropped out of a tree and landed on his head.

It was big, dark, furry, and _alive_. What felt like a fist landed in his eye. Nick yelped and clawed at the thing to get it off him. It was too much for Cocoa, who reared up and tossed Nick and the thing flying into a heap.

Nick rolled on the ground and swatted at the thing, which swatted back and uttered loud hoots. For a second time, Nick felt the net fall over him, trapping him together with the thing. He could hear the boys yelling excitedly and see their bare feet dancing in a circle around him.

Struggling was not getting Nick anywhere; on the contrary, it only seemed to make things worse. Finally it occurred to him to lie still, arms over his face for protection. He called out to the boys, instructing them to grab hold of the thing in the net while Nick wriggled out from under. He got to his knees and sat back on his heels to get a better look at the thing, which was pulling at the net and still hooting loudly.

It didn’t look half so threatening now that it was off him. In fact, it wasn’t so very big after all. It looked like an overgrown monkey, so it must indeed be the chimpanzee the boys were looking for.

“Looks like you got your reward, fellas,” he congratulated them.

“We knowed we tracked it to the right spot,” one declared.

“Ain’t it funny-lookin’?” said the other.

Nick got stiffly to his feet and walked over to his horse, which had stopped a few feet away from the hubbub. After a fright like that, any other horse might have been miles away by now, but he could trust Cocoa not to leave him stranded. With a reassuring pat on the neck, Nick took the reins firmly in hand, then turned back to the boys.

“How are you going to get it back to the menagerie?” he asked. The way the thing—the chimpanzee—was squirming would make carrying it awfully hard.

“Oh, we left a wheelbarrow a ways back. I’ll go fetch it and you stay here and guard our five dollars,” the one called Tommy instructed his friend.

“Bye, mister.” They waved good-bye as Nick remounted and rode away.

No matter what he did, he just kept getting later and later, further and further behind. He was sore and scratched and dirty and could feel his eye swelling. He expected it would probably turn black. Nick decided he didn’t care how much it delayed his pursuit of Nash—he was going to stop in the next town he came to and have a drink.

*****

Nick was leaning on the bar, beer in hand, when Jarrod walked into the saloon. Spotting his brother, Nick put down his drink and straightened up.

Jarrod stopped in front of him and questioned him eagerly. “Where’s Nash? Have you caught up with him yet?”

“Now look, Jarrod,” Nick stalled. “I’m trying my best. If you knew what I’ve been through today…”

For the first time, Jarrod took in Nick’s dirty, disheveled appearance, the scratches and bruises, the torn shirt, and the black eye.

“What the devil happened to you? Never mind, I can guess. What does the other fellow look like?”

Nick opened his mouth to protest his brother’s assumption that he’d been in a fight. Thinking back over all the things which had contributed to his current state—Plodkins, frogs, mud, boys, menageries, nets, and chimpanzees—he closed his mouth again without saying a word. Jarrod would never believe him.

“Never mind, it’s not important,” Jarrod hurried on. “For once your fighting worked to our advantage.” He proceeded to tell Nick about the error he’d found and how this changed the family’s decision to buy the mine. “So missing Nash is good news. Your being late is the best thing that could have happened.”

“You’re telling me I’ve been on this wild goose chase all day long for nothing?!” Nick exclaimed incredulously.

“I wouldn’t say for nothing, Nick. Looks to me like you’ve been enjoying yourself.” Jarrod smiled and gave his brother a knowing wink. “Why don’t you buy me a drink and then we can head on home.”

Nick picked up his glass and contemplated pouring the contents over Jarrod’s head. Reluctantly deciding that that would be a waste of good beer, he lifted it to his lips and drained it instead. Then he summoned the bartender and ordered two more for the road.

*****

Victoria met her sons in the foyer upon their return. “I’m glad the trip was successful,” she said on hearing Jarrod’s concise report. She cast an experienced eye over Nick, but wisely refrained from comment, except to recommend a steak for his shiner.

Grateful for her restraint, Nick gave her a tired smile. “It’s a long story, Mother. I promise I’ll tell it to you in the morning.” Right now his body was crying out for a good, long soak in a hot tub, followed by a full night’s sleep in a soft bed. He did have one question first, though. “Is everything settled between Audra and Eugene?” His squabbling siblings would not be conducive to a restful night.

Victoria smiled, her blue eyes twinkling in amusement. “Heath put them both to work on building a fence around the garden and a better pen for the ducks. They were at it all day and it put an end to any arguing. Eugene’s sent to school for more ladybugs, and he even offered to conduct a study on determining the best feed for Audra’s ducks.”

Just then a woman appeared from the parlor.

“Victoria, will you be much longer? Everyone’s getting anxious to come to a decision so we can begin planning.”

“Of course, Mabel, I’ll be right along.”

Mabel nodded cordially to Nick and Jarrod and returned to the parlor.

“I’m sorry, Mother,” Nick said. “I didn’t realize you had company.”

“It’s a meeting of the fund-raising committee to decide what sort of an event to sponsor to raise money for Stockton’s new fire-fighting equipment,” she informed them.

“A worthy cause,” Jarrod observed. “Has anyone come up with any suitable ideas?”

“There’s been some discussion of bringing in a circus or a menagerie—something out of the ordinary to attract a large attendance.”

Nick had placed one foot on the bottom step, preparatory to climbing the staircase, but at Victoria’s words he halted. “Did you say a menagerie?” he asked with a shudder.

“Yes, a lot of people around Stockton have never seen any animals more exotic than horses and cattle,” Victoria confirmed. “It would be an educational experience as well as an entertaining one.”

Nick stepped down and walked purposefully over to his mother, his weariness forgotten. “How do I get in on this committee?”

Victoria’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Why, you’re welcome to join us, Nick. I didn’t realize you were so interested in civic affairs.”

“In this affair I am,” Nick averred. “Looks like I got home just in time. Now I don’t feel a menagerie’s a good idea at all, Mother. We can come up with something better than that. No circus, and definitely no menagerie. No frog-jumping contests either!”

Victoria blinked and glanced at Jarrod, who just shrugged, as puzzled as she over his brother’s sudden fervor. “I don’t believe anyone’s proposed a frog-jumping contest,” she said, mystified, “but a menagerie’s not final. Did you have something else in mind, Nick?”

He linked his arm through hers as they began to walk towards the parlor, with Jarrod following. “I’d prefer something quiet and peaceful,” Nick said. “How about a rodeo—or maybe a shooting gallery?”

THE END


End file.
